


i'd burn the city down to show you the light

by QuickLikeLight



Series: Tumblr Fics [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Marijuana, Punk, Shotgunning, Stoner Sciles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-24 19:21:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9781430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickLikeLight/pseuds/QuickLikeLight
Summary: Stiles is always taking up his extra space.





	

“Are you ready?” Stiles asks, settling over Scott’s lap, one knee one each side of his thighs digging into the couch cushions. They came downstairs to get away from the crowd, to clean Scott up from where Kira accidentally spilled her drink all over his shirt - but somehow they never made it back up to the party.

“It doesn’t hurt, right?” Scott’s head is laid back against the couch, skin buzzing with the closeness of Stiles on top of him.

“Shouldn’t. Definitely not more than this.” Stiles drags a fingernail along the reddened edge the fresh ink running over Scott’s collar bone and down one of his pecs, and Scott has to suck a breath in through his teeth. It’s a honeycomb pattern, and it took three sessions to get filled in - takes up more space than Stiles’ hand when he’s spread out against his skin. The last session was the worst, touching up the black shadows, and Scott loved every second of it.

“I meant my lungs,” Scott says, letting the breath out slow, letting the sting wash over him and fade as Stiles’ hand settles further down on his ribs. “But point taken.”

“Puffer’s right here,” Stiles reminds him, points to it on the table. “It shouldn’t be that harsh though. I’m going to hit it. I’ll just give you the sweet stuff.”

It shouldn’t turn him on, hearing Stiles talk that way - he’s talking about drugs, about smoking pot in the basement of Lydia Martin’s lake house, not anything sexual. It does, though - it turns him on, having Stiles straddling his lap, looming over him, taking up all his extra space.

Stiles is always taking up his extra space.

“I’m ready,” Scott says, and lets his mouth fall open as soft as he can. He wants - he wants it to be a struggle, to be hard for Stiles to resist, the way it’s hard for him to resist when Stiles suggests they go skating at midnight or sneak into a club to see a show or when he winks and Scott wants nothing more than to go belly up for him. He knows he shouldn’t, but he’s tired of doing what he should do and having Stiles at all his edges but never any further. He tries to channel all that want into his face, his body - relaxed, open, sleepy-sexy the way Stiles is late at night when they walk home together after sneaking sips from his dad’s whiskey bottle at some dumb party neither of them wanted to be at.

Stiles doesn’t seem to notice.

He lifts the joint to his mouth, flicks the lighter on, and then -

“Wait, how does this work again? Exactly?” Scott asks, because Stiles had been fuzzy on the details, but the reality of smoking pot when he has asthma seems stupid, even for them.

“I’ll take a drag,” Stiles says, illustrating by lighting the joint and taking a deep inhale off of it. He holds his breath for a moment and then lets the smoke out into the room, away from Scott’s face. “I’ll keep the smoke in my mouth. And then I’ll give it to you.”

“Give it to me…” Scott says, dazed. His mind goes there without his permission - imagines Stiles bending him over the couch, fucking him with long strokes, clutching at him with big hands, hurting him just a little, just enough to make it feel so much better.

“It’s easier if you just let me show you.” Stiles grins, and it’s always like that - Scott’s sense of self-preservation ends at Stiles Stilinski. “Just - when I blow, you inhale, okay?”

He watches, open mouthed as Stiles takes a hit, and his cheeks puff out a little. Stiles sets the joint in the ashtray on the side table and takes Scott’s face in both his hands, pulling them together. He feels like he should close his eyes, but he can’t - his eyes cross, locked on Stiles’ face as their lips meet.

His brain shorts out, but his body takes over - it knows what to do. His mouth moves of its own accord, kissing Stiles with every bit of pent up frustration and affection and love he’s been trying to keep secret for a year now. He clutches at Stiles’ shoulders, wraps his arms around Stiles’ neck so he can pull him closer, work the kiss deeper -

The instant his tongue breeches Stiles’ lips he tastes the smoke, and his brain comes back online.

Oh no. Oh no. He just kissed his best friend who was just trying to get him high. Scott starts to pull away, but then Stiles’ hands drift into his hair, hold him still, and there’s sweet smoke pouring from Stiles’ mouth and into his own.

“Deep breath,” Stiles reminds him, words muffled against Scott’s lips. And then - “Stay still for me, Scotty.”

Scott stills, goes easy under Stiles’ hands and swallows down the smoke just like Stiles asked. He’s rewarded with another kiss, and then another - little teasing sips of kisses that leave Scott breathless and aching.

“Stiles…”

“I know.” Stiles stills, scritches his finger through Scott’s grown-out curls and presses their foreheads together.

The breathe together, Stiles’ flannel and jersey pressing against Scott’s bare skin, rough and soft in turns, just like him - just like them.

“Told you,” Stiles says after a minute.

“I don’t think anything you said prepared me for this.” Scott tries to laugh, but it’s too honest, too raw.

“Nah, that was a surprise.” Stiles leans in and kisses him again, no mistaking his intent. His lips brush Scott’s when he says, “All I promised was that it wouldn’t hurt.”

**Author's Note:**

> Your feedback is valuable to all fic writers, and I'm no exception. If you enjoyed this story, please let me know.
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](http://quicklikelight.tumblr.com).


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